


Mogflix and Chill

by Lhugy_for_short



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: And blowjobs, Colds and pillow forts, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, M/M, brotherhood era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2018-02-16
Packaged: 2019-03-19 11:07:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13703208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lhugy_for_short/pseuds/Lhugy_for_short
Summary: Prompto was out of school sick all day, and it's up to his chivalrous boyfriend to help ease his pain. Some soup, some Mogflix, and one pillow fort later, Gladio is in for a treat of his own.





	Mogflix and Chill

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for "underage" - meaning Prompto is 17, Gladio is 20 (Brotherhood era)  
> This was originally posted on Tumblr :)

Gladio rings the doorbell, half-expecting Prompto to be asleep and therefore no one to actually answer. He’s been texting his boyfriend for the past twenty minutes, once before he left home and then several times along the way, but none of his messages have even been read. Considering Prom is usually glued to his phone, it’s enough to get Gladio pretty worried. 

When Noct first told him Prompto was out of school sick that day, he honestly hadn’t put much thought into it. He knew the kid had been pushing himself hard studying for tests. Knew that he probably wasn’t eating or sleeping enough, and that he was bound to wear himself out eventually. It had hardly come as a surprise, and so he hadn’t planned to do anything more than give Prom a couple nights to himself to rest up. 

Noct, of course, hadn’t liked that. Had practically jumped down Gladio’s throat for his ‘underwhelming’ concern over his boyfriend’s health. And in the end, had made him promise to at least take over some soup and check on him.

Which is what he’s doing now, or at least trying to. There’s still no answer at the door, and a quick glance at his own phone tells him that his messages remain unread. Prompto, he decides, must be a lot worse off than even Noct had made it sound. Wishing he’d taken up the offer for a key to the place (he’d only declined for propriety’s sake, curse his chivalrous ways), Gladio reaches up to try the bell one last time -- and stops short when he hears movement on the other side of the door.

The lock clicks and the knob turns. The door swings open to reveal what appears at first glance to be an oversized burrito, but which is actually just Prompto wrapped from his neck to his shins in a blanket. From the top, his yellow-tufted head pokes out just enough for Gladio to make out the most obvious of his symptoms: puffy eyes, a runny nose (bright red with tissues jammed up each nostril), and a slight fever if the thermometer between his lips is any clue. 

He looks, in a word, pathetic, and Gladio has to struggle to hold back his laughter.

“Hi, Gladdy.” The nasally greeting is followed by a long, wet sniff that makes the young shield’s sinuses rattle with sympathy. 

“H-hey, babe. Heard you weren’t feelin’ too hot today.”

“Hot. Cold. At the same time, it’s awesome.” Another sniffle and Prompto shuffles backward a few steps to let Gladio inside. “Who told you I was --  _ aCHOO! _ \-- sick?”

“Noct, duh.”

“ _ Traitor.” _

Gladio smirks, and ignores Prompto’s half-assed protests as he leans in to peck his cheek. “You might be thanking him later. Check it out.” He drops the bag hanging from his shoulder onto the nearest chair and begins to rummage through. “One thermos full of Iggy’s Special Soup,” he grins, setting each item out on the coffee table. “One box of cold medicine,  _ extra strength _ . One fluffy stuffed moogle stolen from Iris’ room. She won’t miss it, chill. Aaand the complete box set of  _ Weirder Things _ Season 2.”

Prompto’s bloodshot eyes, which had been growing wider and rounder with each reveal, are suddenly as bright as his smile. “O-on Bluray or DVD?”

“Bluray. Only the best for you, baby.”

“Oh, Gladdy!” Prompto doesn’t even bother dropping his blankets before rushing into his boyfriend’s arms. Still smiling, he lets out another long sniffle into impressive pecs. “You’re the best.”

A chuckle, deep and rumbling as strong hands hug him in close. “Yeah, I know. Now,” he grins into a faceful of soft, yellow locks. “Would you rather watch this from the sofa…or from a pillow fort?”

Blue eyes turn up to regard him, practically swimming with emotion. “I’ll get the pillows.” 

~~

Between the soup, the medicine, the pillow fort, and Gladio’s comforting heat surrounding him, Prompto is already feeling worlds better. His nose is still stuffy and his energy is noticeably drained, but by the time they’re starting on episode three he’s feeling good enough to snuggle. And not just the  flop-across-Gladio-like-a-dying-fish kind of snuggles, but the legs-slotted-together, fingers-stroking-over-his-abs kind. Prom’s eyes are watching the four kids on the screen of his tablet propped up on the coffee table, but his mind is wandering to more...immediate places. 

Gladio’s warm skin, for example. The dark outlines of his new tattoo poking out from the neckline of his t-shirt. The steady, even breaths he takes, and the way his chest rises and falls with each one. 

Eventually, he gives up watching the show entirely. As good as it is, there are just some things that are even better. 

“Gladdy?” Prompto’s voice is soft, probing. 

His boyfriend hums in response. Glances down to meet those shining blue eyes and immediately feels his attention shifting. “Hey. Feeling better?”

“ _ Mmhmm _ .” To prove his point, he curls his fingers around one of Gladio’s wrists, smiles sweetly up at him as he draws his hand up to his own forehead. “Touch?”

The shield’s gulp is almost imperceptible. He turns his hand and presses the back to Prom’s skin. It’s a little clammy, but certainly better than before, and there’s a noticeable flush of color back in his cheeks. Tellingly pink, in fact, beneath dark freckles. “I dunno,” he finally answers, and grins. “You feel kinda hot to me.” 

That’s all it takes. Prompto recognizes the opening and wastes no time in slipping into Gladio’s lap, pressing him back into the pillows and going right for his neck (he’s horny, but not dumb enough to  _ deliberately _ get his boyfriend sick). Gladio sighs over the sound of the show still playing in the background, forgotten for now in lieu of Prompto’s sudden recovery. While the blond’s mouth and tongue and teeth assault the side of his neck, Gladio barely registers the fingers sliding down the length of his body until they’re already hooking around his belt and tugging  _ hard _ . 

Gladio snaps momentarily back to reality. “Hey, woah, slow down, babe,” he laughs, albeit weakly. On any other occasion, he’d be doing everything possible to encourage Prompto to keep going, but he still can’t shake his concern. The kid should be resting, relaxing. Not, well, whatever it is he’s planning to do. Most likely something involving Gladio’s dick and... _ curse his chivalrous ways yet again _ . “It’s okay, Prom. You don’t have to….”

“I want to.” Thin fingers ghost over his crotch through the front of his pants, breaking through Gladio’s paper-thin resistance. “Please?”

He swallows. And nods. 

Prompto shows him no mercy. Within seconds, he’s got Gladio’s jeans open and his half-hard cock between his fingers. Starts by stroking him quickly, efficiently, his bright blue eyes never leaving the sight of his boyfriend’s length swelling fast under his touch. Licks his lips and then dives in, his mouth hot like a furnace on sensitive flesh. 

Gladio’s head rolls back into the wall of pillows behind him. It’s hard,  _ so hard _ , not to buck up into that inviting heat. How Prompto manages to feel so good around him every time is mind blowing in itself -- not to mention the downright  _ sinful _ way he twirls his tongue against the head of his dick even as his lips slide and squeeze along the shaft. And the  _ sounds he makes --  _ all breathy sighs and low hums, pleased little moans that send tremors up the shield’s spine. 

Today, with his nose as stuffy as it is, Prompto has to pull back from time to time to suck in a mouthful off air. But far from detracting from the moment, it actually enhances the pleasure, giving Gladio moments of dizzying relief before his boyfriend is swallowing him back down again. He groans, buries his fingers in bright yellow hair, and welcomes the edge. 

“Babe…. I’m gonna….”

An encouraging stroke of a hot tongue over the underside of his cock. 

“Oh,  _ gods…. _ ”

The show is still playing in the background, completely drowned out by the sound of blood pounding in his ears. Gladio loses his grip, shudders once, and then with a low sound halfway between a curse and Prompto’s name he comes. His hips jerk up as he spills himself, inadvertently thrusting his dick into the cavern of Prom’s throat in the process. Five seconds, maybe more, then he’s sinking back into the pillows as tensions bleeds from his body like air from a tire. 

He feels Prompto shifting. Smiles as his weight settles down atop his chest, and he reaches up to lazily smoothe his fingers back through blond locks. “Thanks,” he says with a smirk. 

“Thank  _ you _ for taking care of me first.” Prompto is grinning up at him. There’s a huskiness to his voice that wasn’t there before, enough that it sends a pang of guilt through Gladio’s chest. But he’s too slow to react. Before he can even open his mouth, Prom is letting his eyes flutter closed, parting his lips and grinding down against a large, solid thigh. Even through both their pants, Gladio can tell how hard  he still is. “Think you could do me one more favor?”

Episode four is long over by the time either of them remember to check. 


End file.
